


y ULETIDE 

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LOTTIE C. <5MITH 




y ULETIDE 

AA U5IN(j5 



BY 

LOTTIE C. 5mTH 



COPYRIGHT 1920 BY LOTTIE C. SMITH 



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NOV -9 '21 



C1A658382 



npHO' many eyes on you ma}) look, 

From North, or South, or East, or West, 
I dedicate you, Little ^ook, 
To the friends I love the best. 



Ihxktxh 



T LOVE to see each ruddy face 
One meets this time of year, 
When all the World seems friendl\\ 
And Christmas-tide is near. 

I love to snuggle in warm fur 

And face the falling snow, 
To feel the soft flakes 'gainst m\) face, 

And hear the sharp winds blow. 

I love the windows of the shops 
Where Waiting gifts are seen. 

Made bright with holly berries red. 
And leaves of polished green. 

I love to listen to the sound 

Of many passing feet. 
And mingle with the jolly crowd 

That throngs the busy) street. 

I love to have my arms piled high 
With bundles, large and small. 

While jostled by the passers-b^ : 
I love it! Love it all! 



(Stmii-byf , mh |parl 



/^OOD-BYE, Old Year! Once more, good-b^e! 

I grieve to hear you moan and sigh: 
I grieve to know that you must die ! 

^ent with care I J^now you are, 
Bruised your heart, with many a scar; 
And stained your sword with bloody war. 

You have brought me joy and woe; 
Yet I 've learned to love you so ! 
Bless me once, before you go ! 

Your locl^s with age are snow^ white— 
I must not stay ^our onward flight; 
Until Eternity— Good night ! 



RING out, ye merry jingling bells ! 
Clear and sweet your music swells 
On the crisp and wintry air. 
Sending echoes everywhere. 

'^he moon, her shining face aglow, 
Sends our shadoTvs 'cross the snow; 
And as we smftl}) skim along, 
I listen to the sleigh bells' song. 

'^he bright stars watch us from the sky 
As our sleigh goes gliding b]). 
Like an undulating wave 
Wherein my happy soul doth lave. 

T^ing out, ye bells I Merrily ring ! 
Oh, what pleasure \)ou can bring ! 
So Very joyous is your song: 
Merrily, merrily glide along! 



(Ho a Wtm 



T^LESSINGS on you, little wren ! 

I am wondering where you ve been 
Since the winter winds that blow 
Brought their ice, and sleet, and snow. 

^ut since your joyous song I hear, 
My heart is filled with hope and cheer. 
Blessings on you, little wren! 
I 'm glad that you are here again ! 



cUl)? (Dlti t0r tlir ^m 

QLD YEAR, / ve loved you well; too well; 

And i;e/ for you I shed no tear, 
No more to you m^ secrets tell: 

I 'II whisper them to this New Year; 
And Oh, I know he 'II do his part 
And lock them close within his heart. 

Old Year, again I say good-b'^e; 

We 've walked together, oh, so long ! 
You 've caused me many and man}; a sigh, 

Yet oft you 've filled my heart with song. 
This is the parting of the wa^s; 
Good-bye to y^ou, and all your days ! 



]V[ Y sa;ee/ Neif Fear, / greet you ! 

Memory's broken toys 
I leave with the Old Year— 
You bring new life, new joys. 

With outstretched hands / greet you ! 

Your breath is lil^e the morn; 
Your smiles cover memory — 

Again new hopes are born. 

With love I meet and greet ^ou ! 

Give me your brave, strong hand, 
And lead me swiftly onward: 

'T is dangerous here to stand. 



Ktita WmUv 



A BRILLIANT map he has unrolled, 

Its wondrous beauties to unfold. 
Poets ever sing of Spring, 
Passing by this lordly ki^g; 
Majestic is he, and so cold! 
But I like his manner bold. 

Loud he sings, yet rich and deep, 
Never taking time to sleep. 
No lisping summer song from him; 
Outside my window, stern and grim 
He stands, and sings his own grand rhyme, 
And on my window blinds beats time. 

ji carpet o'er the earth he throws, 
Made of softest, whitest snows; 
And the trees, once bare and brown, 
Wear the king's own jeweled crown; 
Gems their ic^ fingers wear: 
Diamonds, diamonds, everywhere ! 



'^he ragweeds dead, and dull with rust, 
He covers with hts sparkling dust; 
And the fence once gray, now white. 
Gleams with sapphires in the light. 
Ah, when King Winter passes b}), 
His beauty dazzles every eye ! 

He rocks my house and loudly sings. 
And Oh, the joy his singing brings! 
His voice sounds like the rolling deep. 
And lulls m^ weary eyes to sleep. 
We are friends, this king and I, 
And I am glad when he is nigh. 



\ A /ITH love I Welcome you, New Year, 

And beg that you may bring good cheer. 
So young you are! I never guessed! 
Come, lay })our head upon my breast, 
And smile and dimple while you may. 
For this, m^ sweet, is your birthday. 
To think, before another ^ear. 
Old will you be, and bent, and sere ! 

You do not know, ^ou little ktng. 
What joy or pain to us you 'II bring. 
Hand m hand with Love you 'II go. 
Breaking many hearts, I know; 
But, you pretty, dimpled thing. 
Surely, surely you will bring 
More ofjo^ and less of woe 
To this world, ere you must go. 

Will you bring me some sweet pleasures 
Giving me your fullest measures? 
I know that merc^ is a part 
Of secrets hidden in your heart. 
Welcome, then, since ^ou are born; 
But you sureh) are forlorn. 
You are so tiny— Come and rest 
Your baby head against m\) breast ! 



p* IRE crackles in the open grate, 

The swinging kettle sings, 
And here, within my cosy room, 

Are dear familiar things; 
And, roaring in the chimney top. 

The friendly wind I hear: 
There 's every evidence of home, 

And every sign of cheer. 
Jlgain m^ hopes are horn anew. 
For all day) long I think of you. 

I hear beneath each passing foot 
The muffled crunch of snow; 
I see it piled on bush and tree, 

And storm clouds hanging loW; 
But here in sheltered solitude 
My old warm prints I see. 
And in the fitful firelight 

They beckon and nod to me. 
Yet I k^ep wishing m^ dreams were true. 
While all day long I think of you. 



In dark, straight rows along the walls 

And in the chimney nool^s, 
I see the well-worn bindings 

Of my best beloved bool^s; 
My big brown chair caresses me, 

And Oh, its arms are warm, 
As I snuggle in its home}) depths 

ylway from the winter storm. 
^ut I 'm wishing for joys I never k.new 
Jis all day long I think of you. 

I hear the high treble of childish song, 

And the rippling laughter of ^outh. 
As they hurry by in the flying snow, 

With hearts that are merry, forsooth; 
A nd in the frost on the windoW-pane 

There is feather, and fern, and tree. 
Oh, there 's beauty and warmth for me within. 

But 't is not enough for me ! 
I 'd give it all just to make come true 
What I 'm thinking all day of ^ou. 



iFittaltty 

f~\ LIFE ! How like unto a book 

Wherein our inmost souls ma^ look- 
Time relentless writes it all: 
Deeds of greatness and deeds quite small; 
Pages of anguish, and loss, and fears; 
Pages of heartaches and blotted with tears; 
Pages of goodness, and pages of sin. 
And hard fought battles we had to win; 
Pages close written where Hope has dawned. 
While Tve were dreaming of conquests beyond; 
There are pages of love, and jo^ and peace, 
But by and b^ the book must cease; 
jind so We take one last fond look-' 
"The End", We read, and close the book- 




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